


Focus

by thedevilchicken



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, M/M, Multiple Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-29
Updated: 2008-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 19:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4233477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five drabbles; five different focuses of Bruce's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal on 29 November 2008.

1\. Diana

On the battlefield she’s statuesque, Olympian. Strongest, most skilled of her people – the queen’s daughter was chosen for a reason. This Bruce understands. 

Her tiara, bracelets, belt around her waist catch the sun; she gleams gold, tall amongst the wounded though she tends them with care. She’s Themyscira’s gift to the world, to him: he always wants dangerous women – no claws but there’s a fire in Diana like the goddess she’s named for. The blood on her isn’t hers. 

They bathe together after. He washes her, touch reverent even as they kiss. 

She’s a princess. He treats her as such.

\---

2\. Harvey

Bruce says he doesn’t care about the scars. Harvey doesn’t believe. 

Outside Arkham, Harvey’s trying to progress; Bruce helps. Coffees, brunches, lunches, dinners, people staring the way Bruce never has. Almost all the nerves are dead but smiling, there’s a phantom pain. Maybe that’s more Rachel than his face. 

Tonight, Bruce touches his scars. Harvey tries to flinch away but Bruce stops him; he studies, fingers following like memorisation. Lips brush his cheek. Bruce looks at him – Harvey’s pulse and breath quicken. He doesn’t say no. Bruce smiles. 

Weeks, they’ve been rushing toward this. Maybe now he believes, he thinks.

\---

3\. Clark

Lazy days are rare: when not saving the world, Clark works – Bruce trains for hours. They make it count. 

Alfred brings breakfast in bed – Bruce wakes, turns to kiss him; Clark blushes, embarrassed for Alfred to see though he’s never disapproved. Bruce never cares, says it’s his home, he’ll be himself there. 

They stay in bed after, talking, touching. These days are rare, time together capeless when Clark traces Bruce’s scars, makes him set aside the Bat. They make love, slowly, all their years of friendship culminating here. They’ll always have this. 

With Bruce, he doesn’t have to be Super. 

\---

4\. Ollie

They’re always at odds, no love lost between them. 

Against a wall, where Ollie put them once verbal turned physical; Bruce turns, presses Ollie there instead. The kiss isn’t tender, bruising and that’s intended. There’s no sweetness here. It’s a struggle. 

Clothes are shed, not many: Ollie’s mask, Bruce’s cowl. Ollie bites, leaves a mark as Bruce growls. Belts next and Ollie’s turned, exposed, skin hot despite cool air once Bruce’s cock’s inside him. Seems there’s lube in Batman’s belt. When Ollie comes, he’s still amused. 

They right themselves after, gazes averted. This isn’t the first time, it’ll happen again. 

\---

5\. Dick

Considering Bruce, Dick’s brooding is amateur. So his energy’s channelled elsewhere. 

First: frogs in Bruce’s bed. Then he’s rickrolled on the Batcomputer. It’s three days until he realises all his coffee’s now cheap decaf, two thirds of his spare gloves now filled with lime green jell-o. 

Dye in the shower might’ve been a step too far; Bruce arrives, looking unimpressed. 

“Interesting skintone,” Dick says. “Matches your eyes.” Bruce brows rise. “It’s not permanent.”

They go inside; Bruce pulls him close. He’s blue under his shirt – Bruce lets him see, lets him touch.

“If you wanted my attention, you could’ve asked.”


End file.
